Blood Alphabet - The 100th Hunger Games (SYOT CLOSED)
by HunterOfArtemisII
Summary: "For the 100th Hunger Games, and the fourth Quarter Quell, the tributes from each district will have their names in alphabetical order. Thus, the boy from District 1's name will begin with A, the girl with B, and so on. The letters X and U will be excluded." SYOT closed, with the exception of reservations. T for typical Hunger Games violence.
1. Intro and Tribute Submission Form

"The Capitol is buzzing for this announcement, sir," President Snow's assistant, Lydian Crenshaw said with a smile.

"So they should." said the president in answer. "It's the centenary. I hope my forefathers have a good twist for this year."

"No way of knowing." began Crenshaw, but the President was already gone. It was his moment now. This was likely to be his last games before he retired, but he had always believed in going out with a bang.

There was deafening applause as the ageing President took the stage.

"For the 25th Hunger Games, districts voted on who was to go. On the 50th Hunger Games there were twice as many tributes. For the 75th Hunger Games the tributes had to be children who had never taken tesserae. Now we celebrate the 100th Hunger Games."

The President reached into a box of yellowed paper, and takes out one marked 100. Slowly, slowly, he opened it.

"For the 100th Hunger Games, and the fourth Quarter Quell, the tributes from each district will have their names in alphabetical order. Thus, the boy from District 1's name will begin with A, the girl with B, and so on. The letters X and U will be excluded."

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Yes, yes. It is a terrible introduction. I wrote it in a hurry before I forgot the idea :P. Anyways, this is a SYOT story so please do consider submitting. Here's the character form. Note – if I don't get any bloodbath characters sent in, I will have to kill off some other characters. I don't mind if the bloodbath characters are not particularly detailed. Please submit characters using the review function. Max tributes is three.

-HunterII

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Character Submission Sheet

Name-

Age-

Gender-

District-

Appearance (no one-liners please! I won't accept the tribute or if I do they'll be a bloodbath death.)-

Backstory (as above)-

Personality (as above)-

Family (name, age, basic appearance. Doesn't need to be suuuuper detailed.)-

Friends (as above)-

Strengths (no more than four)-

Weaknesses (at least two)-

Reaped or volunteered?-

Reaction to being reaped/reason to volunteer (again, no oneliners.)-

Interview Angle-

Games Strategy-

Allies? (These can be changed later, just PM me)-

Preferred Death (if they win this is not applicable, but please put a death in case they do die.)-

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Optional

Token-

Chariot Outfit-

Interview Outfit-

Weapon of Choice-

Training Score (Be realistic. Can a scrawny twelve-year-old _really_ get an eleven?)-

Anything else?-


	2. District 12 Reapings

**A/N - Hello everybody! Well, this chapter is finally done. The reason it took so long is that i'm actually a district ahead of you guys to enable me to have time to take breaks if I need to. I expect District 11 to be up in a few days (i.e. when i'm done District 10). There are also two curse words in this chapter, understandable since you would probably do the same if you were reaped, wouldn't you? Thank you to DuncanQuagmire (formerly WhereTheFanboysLive) for these amazing characters. Enjoy!**

Yarrow Carter (18) POV

The morning sun has risen quite some time ago, but from where I'm perched, I can still see a few red streaks in the sky. I can also see my best friend Zaira on the ground, approaching slowly. Where am I? In the battlements of Panem's one and only castle. It was apparently an aesthetic thing more than a home. Some old eccentric from a country called England came over and thought,'Why don't I build this huge, hulking, impractical thing made of stone that will probably cost a fortune! Hooray for bad logic!' Still. It was a long time ago, but it's still useful to me at least.

It doesn't take long for Zaira to ascend the tower; she is surprisingly quick for a merchant's kid. She jumps the last step gracefully then saunters along the wall. "You know it's probably not a good idea to lean on that. Lord knows how long it's been here for."

I crook an eyebrow. "Probably extremely old. Still, it's been there for all that time. I think it can probably withstand my weight, which, by the way, is not all that much."

"Hmph," she huffs, and I grin. Why is she so cute when she's mad? She gets a soft little line between her eyebrows. She is unusual in appearance by the merchants's standards. Strangely for a merchant's kid, her hair is dark brown and wavy, and her skin tanned. She still has those distinctive blue eyes though. I'd say they're like the sky, but for the moment the sky looks more like my eyes, gray and stormy.

Zaira sees me staring and tilts her head sideways a little. "Lookin' at something, Yarrow?"

"Nah... not really. How you doing?"

She scowls a little. "As usual. Father still hates me. Sister still acts like she's plotting my murder. As usual."

I nod, even _I'm_ becoming a little worried about Zaira's older sister, Marina, nowadays. She has... the _look. _The two have never got on and I think Zaira is a little more fearful of her nowadays than she lets on.

Some days I absentmindedly wonder whether mine or Zaira's situation is worse. Plenty to eat, but entirely ignored and reviled within your own family. Or a close, loving family who are starving despite my best efforts.

Today is the day though. Reaping day. And hopefully, once I'm clear, I'll tell her. Because I'm not sure if she knows it, but over the past few years I've come to love her. We grew up together.

"Oh, almost forgot," I say, changing the subject. "Happy birthday!" I hold up a box with a few sporadic holes in it.

Zaira takes the box, unsure what to expect. "Don't open it all the way," I advise.

She does as she's told, and peers into the box. She gasps. Inside are two baby ducklings.

"Their mother," I say, "was killed by a fox. but I thought I knew someone who could take care of them.

"You know me too well," she replies, giving me a hug.

Zaira Mia Jacobs (18) POV

I stand apprehensively at the reaping, a few hours later, and wonder how Yarrow can be so cute and clever at the same time. I reckon anybody else would find it creepy how well we know each other, but we don't. It's natural.

The whole alphabet twist has riled up and relieved District 12 in equal measure. On the one hand, we hate the twists in general, but on the other, many kids can breathe a sigh of relief for a year. Not me and Yarrow though.

We're both in the danger zone, but more so for Yarrow. The only other person eligible to be reaped is a boy from the year below me, Youssef Bayley. It's entirely fifty/fifty.

Fortunately for me, there are plenty of Zoes and Zahras in District 12. I have good odds.

Then, the escort reads the slip.

"Zaira Mia Jacobs."

Ah. Okay then . I have only one thing to say about this.

Shit.

But, of course, it gets worse.

"Yarrow Carter."

...Wow. Double shit. I'm not usually a girl to cuss, but when you and your best friend both get reaped, you gotta forgive people for their actions.

Later, Yarrow's family visit me. I don't find this unusual; after all, they are practically my second family, apart from the mess of a biological family I have. There is his mother and four siblings, Lilah, Jayden and the twins Kai and Max. They are very solemn. I tell Lilah she can take care of the duckling. She says it will be fine since it can eat the grass seeds probably and asks when I will return.

That's the question I can't answer.

Marina does not visit me. My father does. He says nothing. Neither do I. There is nothing to be said.

Yarrow Carter's POV

In the Justice Building I find a pen and paper and scratch out a few lines.

_I was going_

_To tell her today_

_But two slips of paper_

_Took it away_

**Don't forget to review and submit tributes! The available slots are in my profile. Thank you!**


	3. District 11 Reapings

**A/N - Hi everybody. I have been at camp and have also severely sprained my wrist so apologies for the delay. Here's District 11, and thank you to Ihaveacupofnoodles for Valerian. (Willow is mine). Note - scran is Scottish slang for food. You'll understand later.**

Valerian Applesveer's POV

The morning is sunny and cheery, quite in contrast to the ultimately deadly events which will take place today. For the sins of long-dead ancestors, one girl and one boy shall be taken to their certain deaths. And now you should see my point.

The only thing that reaping day is good for is a lie-in, since the reapings don't start until later. But not for me. I'm up at six a.m. to check my traps.

I stride across the fields, until it seems they will never end. It has to be this far. The Peacekeepers are always present in District 11. Finally, I reach the first trap, and begin going through my catch.

Nothing. Nothing. Rabbit. Nothing. Nothing. Squirrel. Nothing. Nothing. Bread. Nothing - wait, what? Bread?

I pick up the small loaf and examine it for a second. Then, as loudly as I dare, I call out, "Allie, ya trickster!"

For a moment there is nothing.

Then - a rustle in the leaves. A familiar face emerges. Almond, my former brother.

"It took you so long to notice!" Allie crows, like a boy half his age. I shake my head. Sometimes_ I_ feel like the older sibling. Except - Allie isn't even my brother any more. Two years ago, he got into a fight with some Peacekeepers, and since my aunt and guardian works for the mayor, she ended up disowning him. Nowadays he lives here, far out in the fields, running from the Peacekeepers still after him. So it's my responsibility to get food for him.

"Sorry Val," Allie says, using my nickname. "So, d'ya have some scran for me?"

Sighing, I say, "Yeah. It's the reaping later. The alphabet one. I'm in the danger zone."

"Mmm..." replies Allie. "Well, good luck."

The sentence seems unfinished, because it is. What Allie doesn't say is 'You'll need it.'

Willow Yew Naylor's POV

"Willow, get in here!"

I sigh and peer down through the branches of the tree I'm sitting in. That will be Karla, my older sister, again. She is eighteen and basically runs the house. I am the youngest of four, which is irritating, especially with_ my_ brothers, Marco and Vick. They never _shut up_.

Shinning quickly down the tree, I speed into our small house and scowl at Karla. "What is it?"

"Oi, don't talk to me like that, Will," Karla quips, using my pet name. "I need you to iron the reaping outfits."

"Iron them?" I say, squinting as if I need glasses. (I don't really. That's just my confused face.) "You should've just put it under the mattress overnight."

"That's not ironing!" she protests.

"Why does it matter?"

"Because if one of us is going to die then I'd like us to look nice!" Karla explodes as my brothers track mud all over the doormat. Silence. She's said too much.

Finally, I say, "Fine. I'll do the ironing."

"Thank you."

"Ehhh... What was that all about?" Vick asks. Of course, they only came in at the end. I keep my mouth shut and boil water to fill the iron. Eventually, it's ready and I look at the reaping outfits. We will only need three next year - Karla is in the clear thanks to the Quell. Only me and Vick are in danger. I'll be fine though, surely... I can think of tons of other W girls names. Wanda, Winter, Wendy...

I swallow. Karla's outfit is a long blue dress with a bow. Marco and Vick have matching dark blue shirts and black trousers. And mine is a short forest green dress with a matching ribbon. Why am I ironing a ribbon? Ugh, I'm too absentminded today.

A while later we are at the reaping and I stride into the girls section. I'm relieved to see that there are plenty of other girls here. I don't know many of them, but that's okay because I'm selfishly hoping one of them will be picked today. Like we all are.

From what I've seen on TV, our escort is a little more normal by District 11's standards than the others. She looks a little like us really, the only anomaly being her blue hair. Still, each year she leads two, or very rarely one child to their death. So we do not like her.

After a tedious speech about the rebellion of the districts, the escort removes a slip from the reaping ball. She unfolds it slowly, then clears her throat. everybody is silent. Then -

"Willow Yew Naylor."

...Oh.

Valerian Applesveer's POV

Poor girl. At the mention of the name, a small girl who can't be more than thirteen walks jerkily up to the stage with her head held high, but everybody can tell she's on the verge of tears. The boy I'd just been talking to, Vick Naylor, buries his face in his hands. He is the girl's brother. I can't imagine the pain - nobody can.

Now, though, it is my group's turn. There are not many of us. The escort once again reaches into the dreaded reaping ball. She takes a slip and reads it aloud.

Two words. Two words to change my world.

"Valerian Applesveer."

I grin madly and march up onto the stage, my body having processed the words before my mind. The mind paralysis lasts through our handshake, as we are herded into the Justice Building, even through the last farewells to my family. But as the last one leaves, it deserts me, and despite my efforts, I cry on the train.

Willow Yew Naylor's POV

The boy, Valerian as I recall, is crying. It's a strange sight. I've never seen a boy cry before. I guess my brothers cry sometimes, but I've never seen them doing it. Not even at my parents's funeral.

It's strange. He cries silently, the only sound being the quiet dripping of salty tears on the floor. I look down, and soon I can't tell thich are mine and which are his. This is the crying of those who are uncertain, skeptical even, that they will ever see the retreating fields of District 11 ever again.


	4. District 10 Reapings

**Sorry for the ridiculous wait! Here's district 10. Tristana belongs to Professor R.J Lupin1, and Sawyer belongs to Lilah32. Enjoy!**

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Tristana Atkinson's POV

"Tristanaaa!" Cyrus yells playfully. "Where are youuu?"

He knows I won't come out, obviously. I'm hiding. Waiting. I lie flat in the tall grass, eyes fixed on Cyrus, who appears to be some fifty metres away.

Cyrus is my boyfriend, by the way. He's 17, has dark brown hair and beautiful hazel eyes, and he and his sister Diandra are the two people in the world that keep me sane. That might seem strange, but of course, you haven't met my grandmother yet.

I raise my eyes up again, but Cyrus is gone. Where could he be? I'm pretty sure I'm currently occupying the only proper hiding pla-

"YAAAH!" Diandra screams from behind me, and I feel my ankle being yanked up into the air. Those two never cease to amaze me… In a moment, I hang suspended from a branch I hadn't noticed was above me, upside down.

Diandra grins and Cyrus appears behind her with a matching smirk. "Gotcha, Tris."

"No fair!" I protest, arms folded across my chest in an upside-down sulk.

"All's fair in love and war." Cyrus shrugs, winking slyly and striding over to me. He kisses me then, short and sweet, all the better because it's an upside-down kiss.

"All right, all right," I complain, pulling away. "Diandra, get me down from here before my leg breaks."

"Certainly," Diandra replies, smirking again. A moment later, I hear the distinctive sound of a knife slashing through a rope, and I just have the time to yell, "Dian-" before I come crashing down into Cyrus's waiting arms. They're always so in sync that it's almost creepy. Cyrus tells me it's 'mystical twin powers'. To be honest, I don't believe it.

"You not got a thank you for me?" Cyrus pouts, his hazel eyes glinting as he brushes a stray strand of my black hair away from my face.

"Y-you put me up there!" I say, trying to be serious but laughing nonetheless. "Why are you my friends? You're so mean!"

"Shush, you know you love us," Cyrus says, making my face red. "Oh, there's that blush."

Diandra looks up at the sun. "Tristana, I think you need to scoot. Your grandmother'll want you."

I groan. "Yeah, to try on another hideous dress of hers."

"I'm warning you, babe," Cyrus says, putting his hands up defensively. "If my sister's correct, I reserve the right to laugh at you."

Sighing, I wave goodbye to my friends. "See you at the reaping!"

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Sawyer Mansbridge's POV

I'm quite good at lots of things, and one of those things is making enemies. That's why I'm currently racing through the streets of District 10 at the speed of sound. I'm running from one of them.

"Hahaha! Can't catch me!" I yell back teasingly.

"Better hope I can't," growls Caiden, my pursuer.

I grin and keep running. What he doesn't know is that I do this a lot, and as such I know all the back roads and alleyways where I can hide. I tear around the corner and knock over a small stall selling apples. They roll all over the muddy ground and I narrowly avoid slipping on one. Whoa, that was a close one.

Without pausing, I begin quickly glancing around to figure out where I am. There's the Holt butcher shop over there, the apothecary on the right, and the paving stones are grey. This must be Flamel Lane, which means if I turn left at the end, then take a right, there's a hidden alcove where I can hide.

Speeding around the corner, I hear Caiden panting. That's good, he must be running out of breath. I dart into the alcove and try to slow my breathing down.

Hearing my enemy's sharp breaths, I realise he's here now. Of course, he couldn't know about this hiding spot. He'll think I've disappeared. I almost laugh, but remind myself I have to be quiet.

I turn around and see Caiden right in front of me, looking like he's about to pop a blood vessel. "Aaa!" I yell as he yanks me out of my hiding place.

"D'you think I'm an idiot?" the older boy says quietly yet malevolently to me. BeforeI can quip 'Yep!' he continues, "I know that hiding spot's there. Looks like you messed with the wrong guy, didn't ya, Mansbridge?"

I see a glint of steel and my eyes widen. I'm not scared of a lot of things, but that… he wouldn't really do it, would he?

Caiden grins at the look. "I would." He says, starting to lower the knife towards my neck. Is this really the end of the line for me? All I did was make a joke at his expense…

But it's not. Suddenly, someone's foot slams into the side of Caiden's head and he falls to the floor. "What the- Damn you, Charlotte!"

"Get outta here, Caiden," says my older sister, staring down at him coldly. After a few muttered curse words, he does so.

"Charlie!" I smile at my sister. "Why are you here?"

"Can't have my idiot brother getting himself killed, can I?" she says pointedly. "What were you doing, annoying Caiden like that?"

"It was just a joke."

"Yeah, yeah. Maybe you should brush up on your hiding skills. Oh, yeah, and where's the darn milk?"

I blink twice, like a cartoon character. "What milk?"

"You really are an airhead," she scowled. "Ugh, we'll get it on the way home. Tim's gone of somewhere with his friends, so you're in charge of dinner."

"Why am I in charge of dinner?"

"Because you were too busy getting into fights to do the shopping!"

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**Hey guys, I'm back! So you may have seen my New Years resolution on my profile, and this is the first story I'm going to work on. Next will be In My Mind, then either the ASOUE or Artemis Fowl one. So as you can see, I haven't included the actual reapings here. This is because I'm fed up of them. They are often very samey. So I'm basically doing what happens just before the reapings. (Tristana's is a few hours, Sawyer's is a day before.)**


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